


The Modern Day Casanova

by RichSkitzCale



Category: Leisure Suit Larry
Genre: Adaptation, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2018-11-04 17:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10995270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichSkitzCale/pseuds/RichSkitzCale
Summary: This is the story of one of the world's most legendary ladies men....at least he's a legend in his own mind.  Finally, the story of Larry Laffer is being put down in prose.  It even has the same tongue in cheek humor the series is noted for.





	1. Let's Meet The Man

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is an adaptation of the first Leisure Suit Larry Game. I do not own the rights to the characters, and no money is being made off this publication.

    In the history of all mankind, there have been tales of those who have been legendary in the dating world.  We have all heard the name of Casanova, the one ladies man who all others are compared to.  It has been said that he knew what to say to every lady he has been with.  We have heard of Don Juan, whom was also legendary when it came to his conquests.  Known to be a very smooth talker, he could convince a lady to join him in anything.  Yet, there is one name that does not get mentioned, yet they are iconic in dating circles as one who stands out from all the others.  This is his story.  
    This is the story of Larry Laffer  
    Well, before I go into the story of Larry Laffer, I must first say a few things.  These must be said so that only people truly worthy of learn about this individual are reading this.  Besides, it is my obligation as an author to do this to absolve myself of any troubles.  
    First off, if you have not reached the point in your life know as puberty, **STOP READING THIS RIGHT NOW**.  Hit back in wherever browser you are using, on what ever website you came across it.  It was not meant for you for a reason that I will not go into here.  You are too young for this.  As long as you put this back, and left no signs that you saw it, life can continue on as normal, or at least as near to normal as it can get.  
    Second, if you are in those formidable teenage years, I will not be so full of myself to think you’d be swayed by a polite ‘Stop Reading This Right Now.’  Depending on how old you are exactly, I would urge you to stop, and maybe speak with someone older before reading this.  The contents of this story is more aimed at adults.  I will not be so naïve to think that it wasn’t possible that my efforts stopped you, but if you decide to continue one, I won’t urge you, but I’ll sell you out in a second to your responsible guardian.  You aren’t throwing me under the bus.  
    Now that we have that rather unpleasant business done, we should be left with the rather mature readers.  _(Snicker)_   Of course, given who this story is about, I’m sure we will keep a civil mind and remember that this individual was not known to be saintly.  To be honest, he was more known to be awkward.  He was the original forty year old virgin before that movie made it something of a big thing.  He was, well, the stereotypical loser nerd.  
    I wish that wasn’t the case, but for every stereotype, there is a person who not only lives it, but exemplifies it.  That is how Larry started out.  He was the peak of stereotypical nerd-dom.  He worked as a computer programmer at a quaint little company.  He lived at home with his mother, whom he knew adored him _(Actually, she wished he would move out and start his own life like his sister had.)_   Every night, he read the same books to get to sleep.  
    Eventually, the life long bachelor, mainly due to his fear of asking out the fairer sex, and of rejection, started to come to a conclusion.  This conclusion was fueled by the occasional porn Larry would come across.  I’m sure you know which one I’m talking about; those issues of National Geographic that features the native women going around in states of undress.  Sometimes, late at night, if one were to venture within listening distance of Larry’s room (if one was more pathetic than Larry was), they would hear a meek, whiny, nasal voice say “I’m horny as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore.”  
    Larry took bold measures to change his life.  He gathered up all his possessions and sold them all.  He had gone to the local pawn shop, and due to the care he had given them for most of the years, _(he had gotten lax by now)_ , he sold them for a nice penny.  He also sold his old beat up car, which didn’t earn him as much as his stuff had.  
    With a nice chunk of change, Larry’s first step was to get the epitome of swinging single fashion.  He got the one outfit he knew no lady could ignore.  The outfit that John Travolta rocked the world in: the Polyester Leisure Suit.  Larry never considered that the movie he saw that outfit in was set over a decade earlier.  He parted with some of his money, and took to wearing the mystical Leisure Suit.  
    His outfit wasn’t the only thing way out of date.  Larry still believed that Disco was in, and the king and queen of music was Barry Manilow and Aretha Franklin.  His dating mindset was also in the seventies, but that wasn’t going to stop him.  He wasn’t going to miss the sexual revolution, even though he was clueless to what the term actually meant.  Just because he was book smart didn’t mean he was common sense smart.  
    Larry was finally ready.  He hailed a taxi, and he had one destination in mind.  He got in the cab, ready to pay for his ride to the legendary hot spot for debauchery; Las Vegas.  He figured if any place could guarantee his true elevation into manhood, it would be there.  It would be there where he would fully transform into the world’s most legendary ladies man.  
    To be honest, he had no clue what he was getting in to.  He had no experience picking up women.  He had no experience with the special breed of people that lurk in those centers of sin and debauchery.  He was going in there a forty year old sucker.  He would need all the help he could get, and to be honest, all those who could help him were sick and tired of him.  
    Just to prove how little help he would have, his mother, the second he left, closed a secret deal to sell the house, and had moved out.  She was actually going to live closer to her daughter.  Rumor was that Mrs. Laffer was going to be a grandmother in a year’s time, and that the Lovage family would need her help.  Mrs. Laffer just hoped her grandchild would be nothing like her son.


	2. Lost Wages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, as Larry is heading to the other city of sin, we learn about Lost Wages, as well as Larry's chances surviving there.

  Now, as Larry makes his way to his destination, it should be noted that he made a serious mistake, and this is a mistake that some people tend to make due to something they can’t control.  You see, when Larry told the cabbie to take him to Las Vegas, he was full of excitement for all the possible positive outcomes of going there.  In that excitement, what he meant to say, and what he actually said were two different things, yet sounded similar.  
  This mispronunciation issue isn’t all that uncommon.  People with the condition known as stuttering go through it.  People who have conditions similar to Down’s Syndrome also have trouble communicating what they are saying, and those they speak to sometimes ask them to repeat something a few times to make sure they understand what was said.  Another group of people who have a hard time communicating are those with notoriously thick accents.   They don’t notice it themselves, but other people sometimes ask them, to their frustration, multiple times to clarify what they say.  
  This is why those overly excitable people, who rush though their words, cause so much trouble.  When Larry said his destination, the cabbie didn’t hear ‘Las Vegas’, but heard ‘Lost Wages’.  This was not a place the cabbie wanted to hear, and even asked Larry to clarify with the usual, “You sure, buddy?”  When Larry nodded, the cabbie gulped, and started the long, and to him dreaded, drive.  
  The cabbies of the United States of America all know one place by name.  It is a place they never want to go, for fear of ending up there permanently.  That is Lost Wages.  Lost Wages is a town almost exactly like Las Vegas, except that it isn’t on any map.  The man who owned much of the town, known only to the locals as Julius, made sure it remained off the maps.  Lost Wages was for those either determined to part with all their money, or rich enough to afford a truly secluded get away.  
  Of course, unknown to most of the country _(possibly until now)_ , and the world, is a secret that the cabbies share.  When it comes to that location, the secret union of Cabbies worked out a deal with an organization of men in black suits.  The cabbies would be allowed to specialize their vehicles for drives to that location, in exchange for information about certain clients and circumstances.  It is ironic that the cabbies that fulfill their part of the bargain that they don’t seem to remember doing so, but it was worth it to shorten any time getting to, and away from, Lost Wages.  It is for this reason, the cabbie pushes a hidden button under his fare counter.  While the vehicle would travel at higher velocities than normal, the passenger would be unaware of how fast they would be going.  
    Lost Wages was home to a high number of homeless, as well as a high number in debt to the casinos in Lost Wages.  There was also a number of freelance cons running various scams in the town, and anyone working for Julius knew who they were.  Even the cabbies in Lost Wages were indebted to Julius, and that was because that was the only place they could find a job after surviving their DUI charges.  
  To be honest, the taxies were the only vehicles that ran in Lost Wages.  No one drove, and no one dared walk away from the few businesses that Julius has high security on.  Lurking past those areas was either the numerous homeless, or one of the local thugs, who secretly gave part of their take to Julius.  It was a small price to pay, in their minds, for all the crimes they committed.  Some of their victims either ended up in the hospitals, also own by Julius, or the morgue.  There is still one case of one guy waking up in the morgue, much to the coroner’s surprise.  Julius made that man a celebrity, especially as the man claimed he had heard a voice saying he messed things up again, and he claimed his body was recycled into a new, yet identical, form.  This claim could be met with the same believability that Larry would be met with if he told anyone that he was going past the Gateway Arch and then Mount Rushmore in the matter of minutes.  
  Another group that didn’t worry about the police was a small gang of criminals that preyed on some of the unsuspecting men who came to Lost Wages.  This group had an epic scam going.  The head of the group would seduce men, bait them with the hope of a night of intimacy, under certain conditions.  One of the members would plant a special ring, while two others played key roles in the scam.  One of them was an actual licensed clergyman, while another was close to being an ambulance chaser who had a sideline in alcohol.  Julius didn’t care about their antics, since it helped him in the long run.  
  There was also prostitution in Lost Wages, which was a key difference from Las Vegas.  In the later, the act was illegal in city limits.  In Lost Wages, it was legal.  It was the only criminal enterprise that wasn’t under Julius’s watchful eye, and that was because of one known hooker in Lost Wages.  Every person knew which hooker it was, but not everyone knew where she, or her pimp, operated.  She had earned a reputation that no hooker should have ever earned, and Julius used it to keep some of his people in check.  The hooker was only known by the name everyone else called her; Typhoid Va-Jay-Jay.  
  I must pause here for a moment, since that name has the same effect to a man as hearing a toilet flush while taking a shower.  As one comedian has put it, his whoie-who looked up at him and screamed when hearing the toilet flush when in the shower.  We all know what happens when that happens.  You get hit with a pantload of hot lava, and you are actually doing the fabled pee-pee dance while trying to avoid that on the part of the body that men care about most.  
  Well, Typhoid Va-Jay-Jay has the same effect on men.  You see, this woman has, over the years, contracted every know venereal disease in the books.  **EVERY KNOWN ONE!**.  About twenty or so diseases have literally taken root in her, and she has shown no signs of any of them affecting her.  I know it sounds as believable as the fact that right now Larry’s cab is dashing through the territory of Area 51.  What has happened, however, is that they all got together and formed a new threat.  This fast acting threat works in minutes on the men who do see her without protection.  The unfortunate men who ended up with this new threat quickly found out the risk when their ‘package’ would start to swell and eventually explode.  If that didn’t cause death, the shock of it happening would be sure to do.  Personally, I wouldn’t want that to happen to any man, no matter how despicable, or deplorable, they are.  
  With all these factors either accepted, or under Julius’s control, it is hard to believe that there is anything illegal in Lost Wages, but there are small items that the police need to keep in line.  Well, they mainly watch out for those committing the act of indecent exposure.  Wardrobe malfunctions are no excuse, nor being absentminded and not removing some sort of protection.  Exposing one's self is the most serious of offenses, and the cops treat anyone committing as a serious threat.  They also keep track of all known offenders from all over the world, _(which is why Pee Wee Herman is at the top of the list in Lost Wages)_.  
  All this makes Lost Wages a very hostile place for people who don’t know any better.  Only those who are smart enough not to gamble in any sort of way, and just stay in the hotel for seclusion, or knows how to go to a bar and not get sloppy drunk can truly survive in Lost Wages.  The only way out of that city is to keep your wits, and somehow keep your money so you can afford to leave.  That last one is tricky to, since Julius, who as I stated owns most of Lost Wages, has a similar view about money like New Jersey government; for every dollar in your pocket, two dollars of it is his.  _(Think about it.  New Jersey is the only state you have to pay to leave.)_  
  Now that I have informed you of what Larry is in for, I should tell you that his taxi, taking less time to get from Larry’s home to Lost Wages than it took you to read this through (even if you had to stop several moments to recover from laughter or rolling your eyes), finally reached the only safe point for out of town cabbies.  He unceremoniously dropped Larry outside the one bar, and drove off before Larry could even offer him a tip. _(This is uncommon for any cabbie, anywhere in the world, but when Lost Wages is concerned, no tip is worth it.)_   He didn’t even wait for Larry to thank him, or for any trite comment, which was actually part of the usual repartee until the mid-nineties.  _(That changed after the whole Bel Air incident involving some kid from Philadelphia telling the cabbie ‘Smell ya later.’  It was considered nothing until it made its way onto television at least once a week)_.  
  And with that, Larry arrives in Lost Wages.  You have to feel sorry for him, since he’s so clueless, right?


	3. Newbie at the Bar Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Larry has finally arrived at Lost Wages, and enters one of the centers of the dating scene: The Bar.

  It is no secret that Larry was out of his element when he arrived in Lost Wages. The place he was dropped of at was probably in the seediest neighborhood he'd ever been in, and he sold computer software door to door in rough areas. _(Of course, that was so his coworkers didn't have to deal with him, and those rough areas were actually the decent areas of their respective cities.)_ Never the less, Larry kept his nerve, and studied the bar's front.  
  The bar was called Lefty’s, and was one of those places that was built into a building that didn’t look like it would be a bar on the outside. One would even think it had been renovated that way on purpose, since that style was the norm since prohibition. _(If you don’t know what prohibition was, it was basically a time when a bunch of idiots said, “Let’s ban alcohol since it is the root of all evil” and they did, allowing organized crime to flourish.)_ The interior would also give that impression, but the actual truth is that Lefty’s was established in the seventies.  
  Of course, since Larry hadn’t gotten inside at this point, he wouldn’t know about the interior yet. He was still marveling at the sight of the building, taking note that the top floor looked to have some sort of rooms, with only one being occupied. He even saw a fire escape on the right side of the building. Larry had learned prior to coming to Lost Wages that the fire escape was the preferred method for swinging singles to make a fast get away in case of being caught  _(or in Larry’s case, so she can getaway from him before he can enter the bedroom)_.  
  Ironically, while Larry was scoping out the bar, another one of Lost Wages’s denizens made their way up to him. It was actually quite easy to miss this one, until they encountered a person. You see, this was the little black dog known as Brutus. You see, some time ago, Brutus ended up on the receiving end of a guy who had taken a wonder drug. Sadly for Brutus, as well as the guy, the drug had been one of those to help get someone ‘in the mood’. This event left Brutus so traumatized that he took it out on every man he found. That was until Brutus was taken in by his current mistress, and only returning to the streets of Lost Wages when she was in town.  
  Today, Brutus saw fit to relieve himself on Larry Laffer. The little black dog continued over to the new man in town, while then man was distracted, and marked his territory. This was the kind of thing most people in Lost Wages avoided, since Brutus, since the day of his traumatization, was blessed with an unusually strong smelling urine. It would fade in time, which if one was lucky was in about a year or so, but most people in Lost Wages wouldn‘t notice it now.  
  As it was, after Larry shook his leg, hoping to dry it off, he entered one of those places where only a wise ass would notice if a dog relieved itself on someone‘s leg. Lefty‘s was a place where the regulars not only knew the menu, but also when someone fell victim to the dog. Many of the patrons, almost all men, had a mug of beer in front of them. One of them, a man with a bushy mustache took a moment to pause in his conversation, and loudly asked, “Whose been pretending to be a tree again?” This question was answered with a loud roaring guffaw that came from the teller. Everyone else was quiet, since they were all watching Larry.  
  Larry didn‘t notice them at first, since he noticed the one lone woman at the bar. She was dressed in a lovely pink dress, whose neckline plunged so low, one could tell she wasn‘t wearing a bra. In Larry‘s mind, this was a good reason to walk up to her, and speak to her. This just proved how inexperienced Larry was in the dating world.  
  You see, the lady in question was actually the sister of the bad joke teller. At least one night a week, she came to Lefty‘s in the rare hope that some sort of desirable man would come in the bar. To date, she had been batting a thousand in spotting complete losers at the bar. In fact, that had been her track record where ever she went with her brother in tow. Of course, she didn‘t tell people the man was her brother, or even her date. She had a fool proof lie in place, even though a smart guy could see through it if they checked it out.  
  As Larry approached her with his trademarked pick-up line “Hey baby, I‘m Larry, Larry Laffer.”, _(not that anyone else would use such a lame line)_ , he continued with one of the other cliché pick up lines that all men try to use. “Does heaven know they are missing an angel?”  
  What Larry didn’t know was that the lady in question has heard that pick up line at least ten times in the past week. If Larry had looked a lot better, and even a lot younger, her response might have been a bit different. Her response now was the most curt form of her lie. “Beat it creep, or I’ll have my boyfriend deal with you when he gets back from the bathroom.” Thus, Larry left her alone, and went to the only open stool at the bar.  
  This action led to two responses. The first was that the man who sat at the bar next to the lady turned to talk to Larry. This man the type of bar patron who saw fit to talk to whomever was next to him at the bar. He was also the kind of guy that thought he was funny, but never seemed to tell the right joke, or even punch line. He also was the kind of man who never took a hint, and kept talking as Larry did his best to ignore the man. One thing Larry did note, however, was that the man looked a lot like the CEO of a major software development company, but this man’s name escaped him at that moment. _(Rumor has it that the man‘s name was William, or at least part of it might be.)_  
  The other response he got was that the owner of the bar, as well as the bartender, Lefty, came over. Lefty was like any bartender, and tended to all patrons equally. He, of course, wouldn’t keep them from doing something obscenely foolish, but he would restrict their drinking if they got too drunk. Lefty also knew a new patron when he saw one, especially since all the regulars were at the bar right now. When it came to a new patron, he would list off all that he offered automatically. “Hello buddy. What would you like? We got Beer, Light Beer, Wine, Champagne, Whiskey, or would you like to by a round?”  
  At the mention of buying a round, every patron perked up. Someone buying a round was something every barfly waited for, especially if it was someone who didn’t know better. You see, when a regular wants to buy a round, it is because they are celebrating, and you don’t abuse a friend. When a newbie comes in and buys a round, it is at their own risk. This was because this was the time that everyone would buy from the top shelf, the sacred high value booze.  
  Larry was actually aware of this tactic since he saw it happen one time when the company he worked for had a company party. _(He was only at it because he was part of the company.)_ He had seen someone buy a round, and literally maxed out his credit cards. Larry didn’t have any valid credit cards on him, and only had the cash he had left from the cab ride. Right now, buying a round was out of the question. “One beer,” was all he ordered. This disappointed the regulars, but Lefty secretly saluted the wisdom of new guy. He then rushed to get the beer together.  
  Unfortunately for Larry, this also allowed Larry to witness one of Lefty’s draw backs. Lefty had a bad habit of not wearing a belt, and wearing pants that were a bit big for him. This meant that every time Lefty ran around to fetch drinks, his pants dropped, allowing all patrons a quick view of his butt. This had the added side effect of having someone down their first drink, which Larry did when it was delivered.  
  With one drink under his belt, Larry decided another might be needed, and ordered a Whiskey. This time, Larry had to fight the urge to down the drink in one gulp. It was tempting when Lefty’s pants slid down again, but one does not slam down whiskey in one shot. Whiskey is a hard, bitter liquor, and those unaccustomed to drinking it go into coughing fits when trying to do that. It was a sure fire way to look unattractive to others, and Larry had the common sense not to do that. _(Besides, he didn’t need any help looking unattractive. He had that covered, even though he wasn’t aware of it.)_  
  He did, however, have a plan. Since the lady had mentioned her boyfriend was in the bathroom, Larry hoped to head the man off with the drink, hoping it would be enough to floor the guy. Whiskey was a strong drink, or at least he thought that. With that thought in mind, he made his way to the back, where the restroom had to be.  
  Sure enough, Larry entered the back of Lefty's and found a clutter filled hallway with a bathroom door on the right side. It looked like it was an unisex bathroom, and he figured it was in use. This was because a man was sitting on the floor, near the bathroom door.  
  There was actually another reason a man would be sitting there, of course. This man was one of the foolish that Lefty took pity on. The man had foolishly ordered a round of drinks for everyone there. It literally broke him, and Lefty left him stay there, at least for the time being. A few of the regulars who even caused the man's financial dilemma even bought the guy a drink.  
  So as Larry moved towards the bathroom door, the drunk raised his head up, as if detecting Larry’s presence. It was enough to make Larry stop, especially as the man asked with an obvious slur in his voice. “Hey shunnny, how’s `bout you an’ me having a little drink?” Larry felt sorry for the man, and in a moment of pity, like many other of Lefty’s patrons, gave the man the glass of whiskey, thwarting his own plans.  
  Now this man was a special kind of drunk. He was so drunk, that he reached that state where drunks did amazing things. It is the kind of state that allows drunks to walk away from horrible accidents without a scratch. They are the ones who are actually fluent in a language they never spoke when sober. They are also the ones who can break out into the song ‘How dry I am’, even if they never remember hearing it before.  
  It is also this kind of drunk that can down a shot glass of whiskey without batting an eye. One must be seriously drunk, or a long time whiskey drinker to do that. Most first timer’s try this, and end up throwing up the whiskey, never to touch it again. This is especially true with the brand of whiskey Lefty kept on stock. It was the most bitter whiskey in the world. Yet, this drunk downed it in a gulp.  
  It was accompanied by a sound of satisfaction, and the drunk happily thanked Larry for the drink. In fact, he was so happy he had a reward for Larry. “That hit the spot, shunny. Let me give you my most valuable possesshun.” _(That last word took about five hics to get out.)_ The man then pulled out of one of his pocket a remote control. It wasn’t just any remote control though. It was on of those universal remotes that would work on any television without programming it _(usually only found in the seriously Beyond section of Bed, Bath and Beyond.)_. Larry wasn’t sure why it was so valuable, but he took it anyhow. There may be a use for it some time soon. With that, Larry then ventured into one of the most dangerous areas of Lefty’s bar _(or any bar for that matter)_ : The restroom.

 


	4. Bathrooms and Back Rooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of Larry Laffer continues as he explores more of Lefty's place, and discovers the secrets in the bathroom, and the back room.

Chapter 4: Bathrooms and Back Rooms

    There are many types of bathrooms in the world. Each one can tell you things about the business, and the patrons of that bathroom. For instance, if the bathroom has chandeliers, and people providing towels for people as they wash their hands, that is a bathroom in a ritzy place. If they also have someone to assist you in the process of going to the bathroom, so you don't have to touch yourself, that is a creepy ritzy place.

    If the bathroom in question requires a key to enter, and looks rather posh, then you are in an executive washroom. _(Of course, if you are reading this, I don't think you qualify as executive washroom material, but given the current trend, I may be wrong.)_ Those washrooms are also said to have private showers in them, but I digress.

    If the bathroom is pink, well that is most likely a ladies room, and if you are a man reading this, **YOU BETTER BE IN THERE WITH YOUR MOTHER, _(AND AGAIN, WHY ARE YOU STILL READING THIS.)_** Of course, you could be a lady reading this, and if this is the case, Larry you like your info sent to... (I knew I shouldn’t have left him proofread this chapter.)

    Now if the bathroom in question is blue in color, has stalls and urinals, and possible reading material by the toilets, then you are in your typical men's room, the age old safe haven for men to do their business mostly left alone. It is bad form to interrupt, or talk to a man doing his business, unless they are in distress. The level of the men's room is usual defined by the reading material.

    If a men's room is devoid of reading material, it means you better not be taking a dump. The owner wants you to get done and spend more money. This is actually typical of most men's rooms. They are merely a convenience for the staff, and sometimes the customers.

    Now, if the men's room does have reading material, it says one of two different things. In the reading material is of the kind that many men claim 'they buy them for the articles', rest assured that those bathrooms serve as a legal alternative for those out on the road a lot, and need to release some ... tension. _(You can stop sniggering now, since we both knew what I meant, and if you are sitting there scratching your head wondering what I mean, how naïve are you?)_. If the reading material is an honest to God newspaper, or similar publication, then it is a place that understands that their patrons are human beings, that need to relieve themselves from time to time.

    It is that last type of men's room that served as Lefty's men's room. And ladies room. As Larry entered it, he found the room devoid of life. It was in a state of cleanliness that reflected an establishment like Lefty's. _(Usually in need of a GI cleaning on a weekly basis.)_ The fact that no one was in there, thus meaning that the woman had been lying, was quickly forgotten by Larry as an unmistakable urge hit him.

    Larry ran for the toilet as the urge hit him. He had left home in such a hurry that the sight of the toilet awakened that natural urge. He quickly dropped his pants, and sat down.

    Now, I am sure you all don't want to know what thoughts were going through Larry's mind while he was sitting on the toilet. The fact is that as Larry did his business, he read the paper. You see, men read while on the toilet so they don't contemplate the deeper questions of the universe. Many of the great discoveries have been discovered in a bathroom. Fortunately, if it were not for newspapers in bathrooms, we might have to deal with many brilliant ideas that are stemmed from the size of one's John Thomas.

    When Larry finally finished his business, with a potent smell, and a loud sploosh, he got up and surveyed his work. _(Men do this as one of those weird possible 'Call Guinness' moments. It‘s a guy thing.)_ He thought for a moment about doing the right thing, and flushing the toilet, but decided against that. You see, it was one of those old toilets, the ones that could require jiggling the handle. There is still some debate if that actually does anything. Ironically, just the week prior, Lefty had to call in for specialists when the bathroom inexplicably filled with water right after a flush was heard.

    Larry did the only thing one should do, however, after using the toilet; wash his hands. This is wise to do, no matter if you are patron or provider. It is sanitary, and one never knows what one might find when washing one‘s hands.

    As it turned out, washing his hands wasn‘t just wise, but profitable. While Larry washed his hands, he looked down at the sink, and noticed something shiny in the filthy sink. It looked like it was just in the drain, and had miraculously not gone down the drain. _(This should note how much the sink was in need of a cleaning.)_ Larry then did the only thing that made sense to him. He reached into sink, and into the drain. He pulled it free, and marveled at his find, for it was a genuine diamond ring. What was the odds that he would find a valuable ring in the grimy sink of Lefty‘s bathroom.

    Now, Larry was actually unaware of a visitor to Lefty‘s before his arrival. The man wasn‘t unknown for going to Lefty‘s. In fact, he was seen there about once a week. He would order one of Lefty‘s top shelf drinks, one for a quick shot, and the rest to fill up his hipflask, and then head to the bathroom. The man would never use the bathroom, having heard of the misfortune of one person who didn‘t jiggle the handle the right way, and would put something in the sink. To date, the man has done this for more than a year, for no known reason _(well, no known legal reason)_.

    Enjoying his find, Larry turned to leave the bathroom, pausing after he noticed the wall of the bathroom. As any patron of a men‘s room knows, the bathroom wall is the precursor to Facebook, or one of its adult variants. Looking over a men‘s room wall, one will find somewhat crude drawings, dirty limericks, as well as whom to call for a good time. _(Before you even ask, yes, Jenny‘s name was on the wall, but it isn‘t the same Jenny. That Jenny has never been to Lost Wages, and never will be. Typhoid Va-Jay-Jay has apparently asked for a hit on her from one of her lucky patrons.)_

    Like any man, Larry went through all the postings on the bathroom wall, noting all the dirt that was stated about people. In truth, only a fraction of it was genuine, and most of it was just filed away in the memory for when someone needed a private chuckle. In fact, there was another purpose for all those different things on the wall. They hid the most important, and easily overlooked item on the wall. A small message that had tons of meaning. It read “The password is ‘Ken sent me‘.”

    Now, there has been speculation on who Ken is. I can assure you that it isn‘t the guy at the bar. That‘s just coincidence. I can also assure you that it wasn‘t the former owner of a computer game company, as he‘s never been to Lost Wages. There have been stories that one educator turned programmer had been spotted in Lost Wages, but to my knowledge, he hasn‘t ever been in Lefty‘s, nor had he ever gone by the name Ken. That being said, a password of that kind isn‘t meant for something on the up and up.

    Larry, while not being wise to the real world, was familiar with the portrayal of history from movies. A password was usually the way to enter a backroom of sorts. Usually in those backrooms, there were illegal casinos, which seemed unlikely in Lost Wages, or hookers. For a brief moment, Larry‘s polyester pants got tight as the meaning hit him. It could be the answer to achieving his primary goal for this trip. Of course, he would need to be able to afford things after that. If anything, he knew hookers weren‘t cheap, even though most hookers were often called cheap. _(Of course, hookers are cheap when compared to escorts, not that you or I know this from first hand knowledge, or at least I don‘t that from first hand knowledge.)_

    Larry quickly left the bathroom, and went back into the main part of Lefty‘s. He quickly surveyed the room, forgetting about the woman at the bar, as well as all the other patrons. He went over to the other door in the place, the naugahyde door. Such a door has never been associated with a place of high class, or high morale fiber. It was the perfect door for the need of a password.

    He went over to the door, and did what any person does when facing a door like that, armed with a password. He looked around, like a person afraid of being watched, acting as if he was doing something forbidden, and knocked. In truth, he wasn‘t doing something illegal at the moment, but since almost everyone was on the take in Lost Wages, it was a moot point to look around like you were up to something. It was a given fact.

    Soon, a hatch on the door opened, and two beady eyes looked out. They looked around for a moment, before locking on to Larry. It was the kind of look that would judge anyone dressed out of the ordinary as someone not to be trusted, and the polyester leisure suit was definitely giving off that vibe, especially if one didn‘t look like John Travolta. With as much contempt and distrust it could muster, which was A LOT, the voice uttered the same three words uttered by door guards everywhere. “What‘s da password?”

    To Larry‘s credit, he didn‘t flinch…much. He almost leapt back, but he knew he would never live it down if he jumped backwards into the bar patrons there. He took a moment, composed himself, and then leaned towards the door, while saying under his breath, “Ken sent me.” In Larry‘s mind, he felt like a suave, secret agent on a daring mission.

    What he had actually looked like was a pathetic loser trying to look like a man of mystery. It was the kind of look that would make real spies roll their eyes, and the man behind the door rolled his own eyes, assured that the loser talking to him wasn‘t one of the few honest cops left in Lost Wages. He opened the door, and returned to his usual post at the base of the stairs in that back room. Larry took the open door as his cue to enter the back room, letting the naugahyde door close behind him.

    Now, it has been often overlooked about the plight of the little naugas. So many of those mysterious creatures have been killed so their hides can be used to make things like that door. This door has been overlooked, however, due to the joint effort done by Lefty, and the pimp operating in the back room. You see, the duo have a unique thing that offers them some immunity to groups like PeTA. Lefty‘s has a moose head on the one wall, and it is a real one. On the other side of the wall is the rest of the moose, and the pimp, in addition to his own ‘business‘, tends to the back end of the moose. The moose is completely alright with this.

    The moose wasn‘t something Larry took notice to, which shows how focused he was on getting laid, or how oblivious he was to the world around him. Larry kept his eyes on the pimp as he entered the back room. This was due to the pimp dressed in the way that everyone expects a pimp to dress: in a gaudy colored suit that just screams ‘I have a pantload of money, and no taste at all _(also known as Pimp Fashion 101)_. This pimp, however, had all the right in the world to proclaim that, given who is hooker was, not that Larry knew who she was.

    As Larry neared the pimp, and the stairs up by proxy, the pimp blocked the way, which was easy given his robust size. Larry stepped back for a moment, as the pimp pointed at him and said, “Listen, fool. I know you aren‘t a cop, but if you are hopin‘ to have a good time up there, it‘s gonna cost you tree hundred.” To punctuate his demand, the pimp cracked his knuckles.

    Now Larry knew he didn‘t have that much on him. He supposed he could leave, and come back later, but if he did pay to go up, he wouldn‘t be surprised if the pimp would charge him to go up a second time even if he didn‘t do anything. _(Which the pimp not only would have, but also upped the price.)_ Larry needed to find a way to distract the pimp.

    He glanced around the room, and noticed something. No doubt, the pimp needed something to past the time between Johns. The fact that he saw the television sitting in the room, not on, made Larry wonder if the Pimp deemed it too much work to turn it on. He then remember the remote he had gotten off the drunk. He pulled it out, and pointed it right at the television. With the push of a button, the television came to life.

    Once it was on, Larry noticed that whatever channel it had been on, it was currently airing one of the many soap operas on at that time of day, which is not on the recommended watch list for pimps, or men in general. Larry decided to start changing the channel, clicking past an ad for Hotel 7 _(you know, that chain where they leave the back porch light on for you)_ , a documentary about one of the various native tribes in the world, _(one that was apparently introduced to stuff like Mai Tais)_ , and paused momentarily in horror on that PBS show featuring the sweater clad burgundy dinosaur that looks high on drugs.

    Larry quickly clicked off that, and ended up on LCSN _(Lewd College Sports Network)_ , which had been airing the Miniature Female Mud Wrestlers 500-kilometer Cross-Country Nude Bicycle Race. Larry didn‘t know it was the first time the event was aired, but had he kept it on, he might have seen the mishap that resulted in the disqualification of half the participants, and many complaints from the FCC leading to the shut down of the network. It did, to Larry‘s awareness, cause the pimp to raise an eyebrow.

    The next click made Larry stop and drool. He had managed to turn on PornProdCorp’s channel. The then foundling company had just started airing its network, and they had chosen an all day marathon of the movie that featured EVERY SINGLE DEPRAVED act imaginable. It is not even spoken of by name, for fear of the blood loss caused by instant excitement. In fact, Larry would have stayed standing there, drooling, had the pimp not pushed him way, shouting “OUTTA DA WAY DUDE!!!”

    Larry shook his head after he had been pushed out of the way, the spell of the movie broken. He glanced at the pimp again, noticing the pimp had pushed down his glasses, and keeping his eyes unnaturally wide. Larry had a feeling that pimp would not care if the world was ending as long as he could watch that movie. Larry tempted fate, and started heading up the steps. Little did he know that he was heading up to the place where Typhoid Va-Jay-Jay worked. 


	5. The Realm of Typhoid Va-Jay-Jay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Larry enters the room of Typhoid Va-Jay-Jay, but is he ready for the encounter? An even bigger question is if he'd every be ready for a woman?

    I would like to take a moment here to apologize to all the men reading this. You see, during this chapter, I am sure you will notice an odd screaming sound. The male reader's will locate it coming from an area below the belt, and between the legs. This is to be expected as this chapter will be discussing Typhoid Va-Jay-Jay. If you think this is odd, remember that I had to do write this not only at home, but at work, and other locations. And you don't think that is bad, I proofread this stuff via pen and paper. Imagine having to deal with that in a public park.  
    Larry entered the room, and saw that it looked like the typical trashy room used by a cheap hooker. It contained cheap, or broken-down, furniture. The bed had seedy looking sheets on it. A line was strung across the room with stockings hung on it. It looked tacky, and calling it that was a discredit to tacky places everywhere.  
    Typhoid Va-Jay-Jay was reclined on the bed, chewing on some gum. For someone in her profession, this had the extra benefit of keeping one's jaws in shape for when a client asked for something outside her norm. _(There has been some accounts where the professional suffered lockjaw at a rather inconvenient time. Several lawyers, doctors, and news agencies had a field day with it.)_ The gum chewing also allowed Typhoid Va-Jay-Jay to talk to her new client. "What did ya want, and did ya pay Tiny?"  
    Larry started for a moment, taking in all the other details in the room. He noticed the window in the walls, and on a table by the one window, a heart shaped box of chocolates. He then turned his attention to the hooker, and responded. "Oh, yeah, I paid." He paused for a moment, unsure of how to continue. He had heard things when it came to prostitutes and virgins.  
    There are stories that go around about fathers getting prostitutes for their sons to make them men. In fact, these tales go way back, and in some cultures is a highly respected thing. Even in the old west, some men would do this in order to help a young man to truly become a man. Of course, if it is done nowadays, they also try to make sure the ‘working girl’ is healthy.  
    Regardless of Larry not knowing about this thought about 'working girls', he did realize some of the hazards when doing business with them. Thus, he eventually went for his wallet, not to pay, but to get the one item all hot blooded young men go for when they are about to 'get it on'. He quickly realized, to his momentary dismay, that he didn't have that item. He had various credit cards, business cards, and event a hint hotline card _(whose number is out of service now)_ , but no preventatives, or to be more blunt, a condom.  
    Larry's head filled with horror, as he realized that he needed to leave here and get one. He would have to get past the pimp again, and the hooker would think he would be paying again for services. He looked around for some way to save face _(if I had his face, I wouldn't want to save it)_ , briefly noticing the box of chocolates on a table by the window, before giving up and saying, "I hate to do this, but I forgot something and..."  
    Before he could get any farther, Typhoid Va-Jay-Jay just waved a dismissive hand and said, "I get it. You're a virgin. I could tell." 'Working girls' have a sixth sense when it comes to virgins. _(Larry's choice of a leisure suit, and the fact that he looked like an unsexy Saturday Night Fever John Travolta cos-play were also a dead giveaway.)_ She kept chewing her gum as she motioned to the window. "Go out that way, and I'll tell him the situation. He'll let you back in, especially if you tell him you had a panic attack. You aren't the first virgin I've had." _(He was actually the fifth one she had, and the fourth who was allowed to leave and get protection. The first one was the dumb one.)_  
    Larry thanked her, opened the window, and did what many men did when leaving a lady's place when it got very awkward. He climbed out on the fire escape. Unlike those men, Larry didn't have to do a mad dash for safety. He wasn't running from any one of the following: a jealous significant other, an angry father, an irate mother, an aggressive roommate, an angry pet, or an upset prior conquest _(That last one usually led to the lady joining the man on the fire escape)_.  
    On the fire escape, he could see a few things. First off, he could see a window that had to be to the prostitute's bathroom. He could see a pill bottle on the window sill, and he wondered what it might be. He then looked below him at the alleyway aside Lefty's. It was your typical alleyway in a city, complete with the bar's dumpster. The only downside was that the dumpster was underneath the fire escape.  
    Larry had looked towards the front of the building, and moved closer to that end of the fire escape. No doubt that the reason he had done that was because he was seeking a way down that didn't involve landing in the dumpster. He honestly didn't want to end up in the dumpster, and that was very reasonable. The only plus about his leisure suit was that it was still clean.  
    It should be noted that it is very dangerous to find oneself in a dumpster. First of all, your clothes end up completely filthy. Second, depending on the business, the garbage going in the dumpster could be rotten food, or paperwork, or something unknown. Finally, in an alley like in Lost Wages _(or anywhere else in the civilized world)_ , the criminal element would put anything in a dumpster. None of this crossed Larry's mind when he accidentally triggered the ladder down from the fire escape. _(He actually fell through a hole in the bottom of the fire escape. Larry thought the ladder story was cooler.)_  
    A loud sound that was a mixture of a splat and a clang echoed through the alley. This was because Larry had fallen into the dumpster. He quickly shot his head out of the garbage in the dumpster, and shaking it to get any garbage out of his hair _(or what there was of it)_. Thankfully, there wasn't anything lethal in it, but he had fallen onto something hard.  
    He reached down a pulled out a hammer. This particular hammer was what was billed as a left-handed hammer. It had been given to Lefty in an attempt to give the man a useful gift. _(Truth be told, Lefty took it as an insult since he already had a hammer, and was actually right-handed.)_ Not knowing if he might need the hammer or not, he had played his fair share of computer games to know you don't leave such a useful tool behind. Besides, he figured Lefty didn’t want it.  
    Larry got out of the dumpster, and was amazed at how quickly the garbage fell off of his leisure suit _(showing that even garbage had better taste than Larry)_. He glanced back up to the one window, and noticed it was past a wooden fence of some sort. The only way he could reach it was if he could somehow lean past the railing of the fire escape, and given his own dexterity and agility, he's need a strong cord to hold him.  
    Larry left the alleyway, and walked back to where the taxi had dropped him off. He needed to find out what else was in Lost Wages, and maybe the local cabbies could help. It was probably too far _(and definitely too risky)_ to walk to the places. He made his way over to the taxi stand sign, waved a hand in air, and uttered those immortal words of great risk, "Yo! Taxi!"  
    There are two types of Taxi drivers in the world. The first is the one who waits for a call from a dispatcher. These are probably the safer of the two types, since people know the cab is coming, and people know who picks up who, should any reports of wrong doing come about. The others are the ones who wait for someone to shout "Yo! Taxi!" These drivers know they can jack up the fee, and don't necessarily need to contact dispatch. Those immortal words also act like a magic spell, summoning cabs out of thin air _(which is safer because of how fast cab drivers in Lost Wages drive.)_. This means that a cab was there for Larry before he even lowered his hand.  
    Taking a deep breath, remembering how the last can smelled, Larry got into the cab, and asked, "Hey, cabbie, where's the action at in Lost Wages?" He closed the door giving the cabbie the unspoken signal that he was ready to go.  
    The cabbie took the cab out of park, and pulled away from the curb. As he did so, he answered the question. "Well, buddy, there are three major points of interest. Ya got Larry's which is the only place with good drinks. Most of the other bars water down their drinks." The cabbie let out a barking laugh at that statement.  
    He took a moment to turn right, and then continued. "Then you have the casino district. Most of those places are alright, but if want to win big, ya go ta Big Winners Casino. It is even next to da best wedding joint in Lost Wages." The truth about the casino was that it had the most rigged games in town, but that isn't a big selling point.  
    Finally, as another turn was coming up, the cabbie finished telling Larry about all the key locales. "Finally, ya got Julius's Jamming Jive Discoteque. Very exclusive, and ya need a card to enter. Got to keep the losers out." The last statement was directed to Larry, almost as if it were a hint of some sort. "The losers usually end up at The All American C-Store, which has the cheapest box of wine in town." The cabbie let out a laugh when he said that, one that stated that he would only drink it if it was an option, but that only bums would call the best drink.  
    Larry took a moment, remembering the highest concern on his mind. He wanted to make sure he achieved his biggest reason for coming to Lost Wages, and he wanted to do it safely. He would need to get to that convenience store. He nodded at the cabbie, and said, “Take me to the convenience store then. I need to pick up some things there.” With that, Larry braced himself as the cab sped off in the direction of The All American C-Store.

 


	6. The American Institution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Larry continues his visit to Lost Wages in his quest to become a true man, he arrives at that all purpose place of business, the convenience store

    Among the great thrills in life are some rather obscure, yet life risking things. Some doctors in California have stated that one of the riskiest things they had ever done was to get on the wrong side of a psychiatrist with multiple personality disorder, who was in charge of an asylum. In fact, the experts of Urban Thrill Seekers Monthly even label that as a nine point five on their thrill-o-meter.  
    These are the same experts that also state that getting into a taxi cab, in almost any part of the world, save one, is an eight point five on the thrill-o-meter, citing several hygiene issues as the reason. The cabs in Lost Wages, however, rank a fifteen on their thrill-o-meter. This is highly significant since the thrill-o-meter only goes up to ten.  
    Larry had found out why this was as the cab he was in sped through Lost Wages. A few times he saw his life pass before his eyes. _(It took several times to see his whole life as he nodded off a few times.)_ He was thankful when the cab finally reached his destination, The All American C-Store. Larry quickly paid the cabbie, and got out. He even included a tip, figuring it might encourage the cabbie to drive safer _(It didn't)_.  
    He looked around for a moment, taking in his surroundings. Dominating the street corner was the very store he was going to. On a pole near the store was a pay phone, and he resisted the natural urge of all human beings when it came to such a device _(checking the coin return for unclaimed change, which was empty)_. Down the street, he could see a rather burly man standing in front of a door. He figured he would have to go down there later. He then entered the store.  
    There is a tradition when it comes to the convenience store. It has grown more commonplace over the years, but when one mentions one of those places, we get the image of someone of Indian descent. This little myth has actually been kept alive over the years, especially by the family of Abdul _(you know what, I can‘t even spell his last name, let alone pronounce it)_. His family came to America in 1775, and has always owned one store or another before settling in Lost Wages. While they speak with out an accent, and have done for generations, the use a heavy accent to keep the appearance going. _(They have also used it to get many alt-righters arrested. It also helped that Abdul’s childhood friend had joined ICE, and covered the Lost Wages area.)_  
    This was the person who greeted Larry when he entered the store. As Larry scoped out the store, Abdul said in his fake accent, and mock English. “Welcome stranger. Wha-tee wan-tee?” Larry didn’t answer, since he didn’t want to openly admit he needed to buy a condom, or to use the more humorous term, ‘lubber‘. It was embarrassing for him to admit that at near forty, he had never had relations with a woman. It was for this reason that Larry started going through the various aisles in the place.  
    He, like many men, lingered in the periodicals aisle. There is usually more items in a periodical aisles to distract a man than a woman. These items were usually divided into three shelves. The bottom shelf, which would be the easiest for children to access, was where comic books, and periodicals that were child friendly were located. The middle shelf was usually reserved for hobby periodicals for both men and woman, and usually contained little to no suggestive material in them.  
    The top shelf was usually reserved for the stuff that would have questionable material in them, and even that was divided into rows. The ones in the back would also have an added precaution of a piece of cardboard in front to them to hide the covers of them. _(This also denotes them as forbidden, and thus very popular amongst the men, and the immature boys who are sneaky enough to get to look at them, **AND ARE NOT READING THIS RIGHT NOW SINCE THEY ARE SHUTTING IT DOWN RIGHT NOW SINCE I SPOTTED THEM READING IT.** )_  
    Like all men, Larry was drawn to that top shelf, and he started to look at the various titles. The usual compliment of a convenience stores compliment of adult titles usually includes Playboy, Playgirl _(mostly for women)_ , Penthouse and Hustler. Those titles, for the most part, usually allow their covers to be mostly seen. There are others, that I shall not mention at this time, that need their covers hidden, since they tend to include frontal shots of women who are at least topless. _(Usually, these women are very well endowed, and even more so, augmented by one of the more noted plastic surgeons)_. Needless to say, Larry picked up one of these titles, Jugs, and began reading through it. He, like many men, paused to read an article in the magazine detailing how window washers would use bungee cords to secure them to what ever they needed to clean windows. Figuring he might need this knowledge, he decided he would pick up that issue _(the fact that the centerfold for that issue was the noted adult starlet Chesty Turbo, noted for starting Porn Prod Corp, and being a natural J cup, never factored in to this decision) **(Yea, I can’t even type that and keep a straight face.)**_  
    Larry then moved towards the back of the store, figuring that might be where the ‘lubbers’ might be. As it turned out, this was were the store kept its allotment of alcoholic products. These are of low quality, and as such, are basically only good for giving to bums and people you don’t like. Due to Larry’s history, he was glad to see the store had his favorite brand of wine, Chateau d’papier carton. This was usually the brand he got from co-workers. He decided he would pick up his own box.  
    Larry then picked up another breath spray _(you can never have too much)_ , and moved over to the counter. As he neared it, he noticed a sign on it. Apparently ‘lubbers’ were such a high demand item, that they had to be kept behind the counter for safety sake. _(This makes it one of the more unusual high security items in the world, which was known to include copies of Animal House in some of the old video rental places.)_ Gathering his courage, Larry moved towards the counter.  
    If you have never bought a ‘lubber’ before _(and if you are female, why are you buying it, he‘s suppose to be buying it)_ , it is a very embarrassing situation to buy one for the first time. Many a young man have tried to wait until no one was around to pick up their first box of ‘lubbers‘, let alone pay for it. It is for this reason that men, like Larry, develop the momentary ability to turn ones head around three hundred sixty degrees. Doing this, Larry deemed the place deserted enough, and thus safe to ask the clerk about ‘lubbers‘.  
    As it turns out, when Larry asked about ‘lubbers’, the clerk’s accent became less pronounced. Apparently, the stock of ‘lubbers’ was something Abdul was well versed on. _(As it turned out, Abdul had ordered every variety of ‘lubber’ out there, which explained the cheap alcohol selection.)_ Abdul asked him various questions regarding the ‘lubber’ that was needed, from the size needed _(Larry answers the size all men need, GONZO)_ , to the various texture qualities, _(which for some reason included plaid and glow in the dark)_ , and various things that might be needed for other activities _(which I will not discuss in this entry)_.  
    When every question was answered, Abdul did something that has become part of the custom when buying something like ‘lubbers’, the obligatory embarrassing moment. Abdul basically shouted at the top of his lungs, in a voice containing no accent, “Hey, look at this guy who just ordered a..” _(To save Larry any more embarrassment, **since I have gone momentarily out of my mind,** I won’t go through the list of choices made here)_ “...lubber.” Since Larry had checked the store before walking up to the counter, he was certain no one would respond.  
    Again, given the rules of maximum embarrassment, which also explains why a very noisy room goes deathly silent when you have to shout at the top of your lungs to pass an embarrassing secret, about twenty people who could not have all arrived in the mere seconds since Larry started talking with Abdul, all appeared. They popped their heads out of the aisles in the same way prairie dogs pop out of the ground, and cubicle workers pop out of their cubicles when there is a loud sound. All heads swiveled to look at the counter, and in one voice exclaimed, “What A Pervert!”  
    Once they all disappeared, and Larry was sufficiently embarrassed, he paid for his purchases. With his wallet slightly lighter, he started heading towards the exit, pausing long enough to look around the store again. He couldn’t figure out where all the people had come from, nor where they had gone to. After that experience, he wasn’t sure he wanted to come back to the store. He then left the place, realizing he may have made a mistake getting the wine. He would need to get rid of it in some way before he hailed a taxi. Maybe he’d find some place up the street.

 


End file.
